


Alice's Restaurant

by ShowMeAHero



Series: The Smithsonian [15]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5292347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve weren't really prepared to host Thanksgiving, but damn if they don't love doing it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alice's Restaurant

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ["Alice's Restaurant" by Arlo Guthrie](http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=m57gzA2JCcM).

Steve and Bucky did not think ahead to days like this when they were choosing dining room furniture. Really, they should have been more mindful, because Thanksgiving was not the only time they all ended up crammed in Steve and Bucky’s apartment in Avengers Tower. Thanksgiving was, however, the day when they all shoved themselves around their IKEA-small table in the dining room at the same damn time.

Steve had spent the entire morning trying to cook enough turkeys to keep up with headcount Bucky was keeping on the dry erase board on the fridge. As it stood, they had themselves, Jamie, Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Clint, Kate, Lucky, Natasha, Thor, Jane, Darcy, Vision, Pietro, Wanda, Sam, Maria, Peggy, Sharon, Peter, Wade, Matt, Foggy, Karen, Jessica, Luke, Daniel, Nick, Phil, and Phil’s entire team. Bucky was breathless every time he had to run through the list again. There were also a couple of people Bucky did not recognize, and drew caricatures of on the dry-erase board instead of names.

Steve finally dropped the last dish - sweet-potato casserole, which Lucky and Sharon were both eyeing with equal desire - onto the table and took his seat at the far end. Bucky was already perched at the other end. People were lining the table, crammed in until their elbows were linked, and still were people were sitting on the floor and/or pressed against the walls.

“We should go around and say what we’re thankful for,” Peter suggested, and was met with multiple raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, if you want all the food to go cold, idiot,” Jessica said.

“Should someone say grace?” Karen asked, and Tony raised his hands.

“Grace!” he exclaimed, and Pepper elbowed him.

“Just eat,” Steve said, and Kate was the first to move, grabbing a turkey leg which she promptly started sharing with an exceptionally excited Lucky. After that, all hell broke loose, the room filled with the clattering of dishware and the laughter of friends and the screams of those same friends as someone spilled their milk.

Steve raised his glass to Bucky, who seemed to be sitting so far away. Bucky raised a forkful of turkey before he got hit in the cheek with a little mashed potato grenade. Dinner lasted about an hour in the same way before a group of people went up to the roof to play what appeared to be a fairly dangerous game of football. Steve, Thor, and Wanda were left cleaning up the dining room after Bucky shepherded everyone else out to make hand turkeys, per Jemma’s idea.

“You have crafted a most excellent feast, Steve,” Thor said, hauling up as many plates as he could balance down the length of one arm. Wanda was flicking her fingers at dishes, and they stacked themselves before her eyes.

“Thanks very much,” Steve replied, eyeing a gravy mark on the tablecloth. In one fluid moment, he yanked the tablecloth out from under the dishes, leaving all the dishes still on the table. One glass spun slightly before settling back on its base. Thor laughed.

“You are very impressive,” Thor commented, taking the dirty dishes into the kitchen. Wanda raised all the remaining dishes on the table with a lift of her wrist and followed after Thor. Bucky resurfaced the instant the room was empty, save for Steve, as if he had been hiding around the corner until everyone was gone. Bucky pushed in a chair and used his grip on the back of it to tilt himself closer to Steve.

“You did good,” Bucky said, and Steve leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Remember,” Steve started, and Bucky groaned, falling into a different chair. “Hush. You love my stories.”

“I tolerate your stories,” Bucky corrected. Steve snapped out the tablecloth before folding it up for the laundry.

“That’s really all I need,” Steve said. “ _Anyways_ , remember Thanksgiving when we were kids?”

“Kinda,” Bucky answered, because specific memories could still be hard to call up, sometimes. He kicked his heels up onto the bare table, and Steve took the chair next to him. “Tell me about them.”

“Me and my ma came over to your place,” Steve recounted, rubbing the edge of the tablecloth between his fingers. “Since my pa died when I was so little. You always had two spots at your table for us. My ma and yours made as big a turkey as we could afford for us and your sisters. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. Steve dragged Bucky's feet into his lap. He ran his thumb over Bucky's ankle bone. “I remember playing outside with you after dinner, if it wasn't too cold.”

“And even then.” Steve smiled, the corner of his mouth twisting up. He wrapped his strong fingers around Bucky's ankle. “I like these Thanksgivings, too.”

“We do seem to know a lot more people than we used to,” Bucky commented, leaning to look past Steve at the group of people sitting on the floor in their living room. Peter swung by the window, a football tucked under one arm, a determined look on his face, a little rip in the shoulder of his holiday sweater.

“Wouldn't have it any other way,” Steve said. He pushed Bucky's legs out of the way and dragged his chair closer so he could kiss him, firm, grounding, one large hand at the back of Bucky's head. “Love you.”

“Love you,” Bucky echoed. “Now. I distinctly remember you making pumpkin pie.”

“You are a bottomless pit,” Steve teased, leaning in to kiss him again, and Bucky wrapped his hand in Steve's sweater (they matched, Peggy knitted them, it was a whole Thing) and dragged him in as close as he could get. Jamie and Lucky rocketed by, turkey bits in their mouths, and Steve got up to chase after them. Bucky got up, stretched, popping his back, and watched them while he considered the fact that he would probably need a billboard and some very fine print to list everything he was thankful for.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving!
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
